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Introduction
A 12-step recovery program is the foundation of my sobriety. I work it every day—to maintain my mental and spiritual health, to grow, and to learn how to live a good life.
But there’s a hurdle that stops many people in their tracks early on: Step Three. I sailed through Steps One and Two myself:
Step One – We admitted we were powerless over alcohol—that our lives had become unmanageable. My life was a train wreck, and I readily admitted it!
Step Two – Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity. I went to Catholic school, and trust me—I needed some help with my sanity. So I got that one!
But then came Step Three: Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.
Wait—turn my will and life over? But what happens to me? What do I have to become in sobriety—a puppet? A slave?
For years, I fought to maintain control over everything—my drinking, my emotions, my relationships, my life. The idea of surrender felt terrifying. But thankfully, I had something stronger than my fear: the gift of desperation.
My best efforts had driven my life straight into the ground. If my Higher Power wanted to take the wheel, I wasn’t going to argue. I had already driven my car over too many cliffs.
But long before I reached that moment of surrender, I lived under a dangerous illusion—the illusion that I was in control.
The Illusion of Control
Before entering rehab and working the 12-step program, my life was chaos. On the outside, I tried to keep it together - a job (not a great one, but a job), a home, my husband and friends (aka drinking buddies)—but inside, I was unraveling. The deeper my drinking became, the harder I fought to control it.
I thought if I managed it just right, I could keep drinking without losing everything.
I set rules: only wine, not liquor (until wine wasn’t enough and cheap vodka with names containing z's and y's were, well - cheaper). Only on weekends (until weekends became Thursdays… and then Wednesdays and any day ending in "Y"). I switched liquor stores daily and had a roster of five in my rotation so no one would “catch on”. But instead of fooling only one liquor clerk, I managed to expand the number of liquor store workers to at least several who knew I had a problem!
I even tried rationing bottles, telling myself just one tonight—but one was never enough and most mornings I would find not just one empty bottle, but a half bottle of vodka that I knew was unopen when I passed out in bed a few hours earlier. "How did that happen?" was my usual first thought of the day.
Looking back through my now sober eyes, was I ever in control? Or was alcohol the one driving the car?
The truth is, many people who struggle with alcohol also struggle with an underlying addiction to control. The main reading book in my 12 Step program describes self-centeredness as the root of our troubles, and for alcoholics, that often manifests as an exhausting, fear-driven attempt to manage everything—our drinking, our emotions, our relationships, even how others perceive us.
We convince ourselves that by setting drinking rules like I did, we are still in charge. But in reality, these mind games only deepen our powerlessness. The harder we try to grasp control, the more we lose it and the more unmanageable life becomes.
Why We Self-Medicate
I had to do some deep soul searching and inner work to understand why I drank and how I became an alcoholic. I've found that at the heart of self-medicating is pain—pain we don’t want to feel, pain we don’t know how to process. Alcohol isn’t just a drink for someone like me; it’s an escape hatch, a numbing agent, a way to push down the things I wasn’t ready to face.
Stress, trauma, loneliness, anxiety (and let's not forget fear)—alcohol let me avoid them all.
The problem? It never actually fixes anything.
Unfortunately society normalizes self-medication. As I wrote a few weeks ago in "The Truth About How Society Normalizes Drinking for Women" we see it everywhere—from "Mommy Wine Culture" to “I need a drink after today” memes to the idea that “just one” glass of wine is a valid stress relief method.
But for those of us with addiction, that one glass turns into a bottle.
That bottle turns into a habit.
That habit turns into a life we no longer recognize.
We drink to feel better, but it only makes things worse. The pain we were avoiding is still there—only now, it’s compounded by shame, regret, and the physical toll of alcohol.
For years, alcohol served as my crutch. Even after I quit drinking, my need for control didn’t disappear. I still clung tightly to expectations (why doesn't everyone change!), tried to force outcomes, manipulated situations to feel safe.
The illusion of control, driven by my fear of loss or rejection - deep seeded from childhood ("no kidding..."), led to more frustration, resentment, and emotional turmoil.
The truth is, real freedom begins when we let go.
The Freedom in Letting Go
For years, the belief that I could control my drinking—that I could just have that one glass of wine with dinner, that this time would be different—kept me trapped in a nightmarish cycle of false hope and inevitable failure.
The truth is, moderation was never an option for me.
This isn’t just my experience; science backs it up:
Researchers at Ohio State University applied chaos theory to study the drinking patterns of an alcohol abuser over several years. The study found that alcoholism isn’t a stable condition—it’s actually an unpredictable, zig zagging cycle. One day of overdrinking leads to an attempt to cut back the next, but the reduction never fully offsets the binge.
Trying to moderate (or control) drinking is a slow, deceptive spiral of “improvement” that isn’t improvement at all—it’s just another step toward relapse.
THIS helps explain why so many people, including me, have tried moderation and failed—the idea that alcoholics can ‘learn to drink responsibly’ ignores how addiction actually works!
The study’s findings also confirm what I know deep in my bones—moderate drinking for an alcoholic is just a slower road back to full-blown chaos.
True freedom doesn’t come from trying to control alcohol; it comes from admitting we can’t and choosing complete sobriety instead.
Letting go of that illusion was the most liberating decision I ever made. I'm truly free.
A Call to Action
If you’re reading this and wondering whether you are truly in control, ask yourself:
Have you ever set drinking rules for yourself, only to break them?
Have you ever promised tonight will be different—but it never is?
Do you find yourself making excuses for why drinking is still okay?
If any of these resonate, you’re not alone. You don’t have to keep living in the exhausting cycle of trying to manage the unmanageable. There’s a way out.
Take a moment to reflect. Be honest and write down all the ways you’ve tried to control drinking.
What has it cost you?
What would happen if you stopped trying to manage it and just let go?
Real freedom begins when we stop trying to control what is uncontrollable—and start healing what truly needs attention.
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My research for this blog shows why so many people, including me, have tried moderation and failed—the idea that alcoholics can ‘learn to drink responsibly’ ignores how addiction actually works!
Are you ready to stop drinking?
I couldn’t do it alone, and I haven’t met anyone who could.
You are NOT alone!
Women in the Rooms is a supportive, empowering space designed just for women questioning their relationship with alcohol. Join us to connect, heal, and take the first step toward freedom.
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